Jammes quickly pranced down the hall, her hair bouncing up and down as she did. As she approached the back curtain of the stage, she looked around at everything that was being done. The stage crew ran around the stage as the rigging was being reset, and the stage lights separated and moved. She quickly started to get out of their way, and moving to a corner on the other side of the stage. She saw Helena there, talking with John Buquet, one of the stage crewmembers who was teaching her during her apprenticeship, and quickly made her way to her.
Helena saw Jammes walking towards them and smiled a bit, picking her up as she practically jumped in her arms. She stood, trying her best to hold up Jammes, but she proved to be too heavy for her. She quickly put the little girl back down, nodding her head every so often so that Buquet would think she was listening to him.
One thing Jammes had always wondered about was the relationship between Helena and Buquet. Ever since Jammes could remember, both Helena and Buquet have been at the opera. The first time she had saw the two; she thought they were father and son. After she had figured out that Helena was a woman, she started to think that the two were courting, or even married. They were always together, always joking around and such. Helena had sworn many times that their relationship was strictly business, and there was nothing that she and he did that would state otherwise.
"Jammes." A stern voice rang throughout the back stage area. Madame Giry made her way through the crowd of stage crew and to where the three were standing. She hit the heal of her cane on the floor three times, "Get into formation, we're beginning." She glanced up to Helena, "And you, Helena…." She could see Helena preparing herself, expecting to be yelled at, "if you would please move the lights over a bit. Some of the girls have been complaining about the light in their…" her sentence was suddenly interrupted by a loud voice.
"Questo è che non ho voluto!" A woman with reddish brown hair stormed through the curtains of the stage, walking back stage. Her presence itself was overwhelming and demanding. She made her way across the backstage very quickly, even if she was wearing what would seem like such a heavy costume and headpiece. The woman was quickly stopped by chubby, stocky man.
"Carlotta! Finiamo. Abbiamo tuttavia molto di fare." The man gently put his hand out, not in quite a demanding manner, but in more of a submissive manner, almost as if he was hesitant in doing so.
She took his hand, rolling her eyes a bit and walking through the curtains with him once again, disappearing. Helena glanced at Madame Giry.
"La Carlotta and Piangi… it's different seeing them in costume, is it not?" She smirked, walking to the other side of the stage where the railing was for the ballerinas. She watched as the girls lined up one at a time, Meg and Christine of course the last few to get to the railing.
Buquet and Helena quickly climbed the ladders to the rigging and stood on opposite ends of the scaffold. They looked down, watching the dress rehearsal as Carlotta belted out the notes effortlessly.
Though most people could hardly stand Carlotta, Helena learned to bare with her. She actually admired the woman, especially her voice. The power that was behind it, and the years of training that had went into it. It seemed that the only reason most people didn't like her was because she was very rude at times. She was often called a Diva and Prima Donna, but they didn't really use the terms in the nicest way.
She listened closely, almost as if she was in a trance. A dumbfounded smile formed on her face as she leaned over the railing of the scaffold, taking great interest in Carlotta starting to sing the Cadenza.
Suddenly, she saw Monsieur Lefevre walking backstage to the wings, leading two other men behind him. She noticed the men talking, and then Carlotta suddenly stopped singing, her attention fully taken from the stage to the two new gentlemen.
Buquet walked to Helena, leaning over the railing beside her, "Ah, those two. The one… the short one, his name is Andre. And the other one, the taller one, his name is Firmin. I was in Lefevre's office, receiving my check when the two came in. Yeah, he didn't dismiss me, and seemed pretty caught up in shaking their hands and talking; I just made myself comfy on that big couch he's got." He shook his head a bit, hearing the music and the chorus once again. "You stay here!" He yelled over all the noise. "I need to go down and check the placement of props. Don't move or touch anything while I'm gone." He walked to the other side of the scaffold, vanishing down the ladder.
She shrugged a bit, not really minding the fact that she didn't need to do anything then. She much rather watch the rehearsal anyhow. Her thoughts were soon interrupted by Carlotta's voice, blurting something off in half Italian and half French. Suddenly, Andre, Firmin, and Reyer were crowding Carlotta, trying to make sure she didn't leave. Helena couldn't hear what was going on so well, but she got the hint that Carlotta was blowing off some steam. She didn't think anything of it of course, La Carlotta was a Prima Donna, and it wouldn't be a performance without a little drama.
She then heard Carlotta's voice once again, singing, "Think of Me," Helena's favorite song from the Opera. Over the few weeks of rehearsals, she had learned the words to the song and the notes, only catching on by ear.
Her trance state was soon broken again by a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye. She quickly turned her head, looking about a bit. She turned the other way, making sure nothing was near the main parts of the rigging, such as the scaffold ropes or the ropes to the stage curtains. She nodded to herself, then turning her head back around, starting to walk forward across the scaffold. "Hello?" She whispered and then paused. There was no answer. " 'ello!" She said, a bit louder. "Buquet, is that you?" Still there was no answer, but now, she could hear footsteps. She looked around her at the other scaffolds, seeing some sway a bit. A smile formed on her face and she let out a little laugh, "Well, Monsieur Buquet, I thought we weren't allowed to play games up here, or have you had a change of heart?" She shook her head, looking down to Carlotta, but catching a glimpse of the ballerinas. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. John Buquet stood behind a wooden tree, watching the girls stretch.
She quickly grabbed onto the railing, gripping it as hard as she could. "Mathew? Joseph? Marquis? Joshua?" She desperately went through these names, receiving no answer, but still hearing the footsteps and witnessing the swaying of every scaffold except hers. Abruptly, there was a loud clack, and her scaffold started to shake. She whipped her head around to see the curtain's main wheel spinning and then a loud crash. Before she could even comprehend what had just happened, Carlotta lay on the floor screaming.
She looked over the railing, seeing everyone scramble to help Carlotta to her feet after almost being squished by the curtain.
"Helena! What the Hell happened!" Buquet had quickly climbed the ladder and stepped onto the scaffold. His face was red with anger, but then quickly faded as he seen how pale Helena was. He quickly ran to her, grabbing her shoulders, "Helena, what was it! Was that you!"
Helena could barely open her mouth. The only thing she could do was shake her head.
It proved to be enough for Buquet. He quickly ran to the curtain's wheel, pulling it around and lifting the curtain back up. He heard Lefevre's voice from below, and answered him back, "It wasn't me sir, I swear! I wasn't at my post! I swear it sir… ah, but maybe it was the Opera Ghost." He gave a faint laugh, glancing at Helena, and then taking in a deep breath, shaking his head.
Helena snapped out of it once again, hearing Carlotta's ramblings. She watched wide-eyed as Carlotta quickly and swiftly walked back stage, and then to the back doors of the Opera House, leaving with Piangi close behind her. Her heart sank. This was to be the first Opera that she was actually allowed to be in the scaffold, and with no leading soprano, that meant no opera. She'd have to wait another few months to do anything in the scaffolds again. She let out slight moan, 'Stupid Opera Ghost….' She thought to herself. She looked over the railing as Firmin and Andre started to noticeably sweat as they fought back and forth about what to do with no leading lady. Reyer quickly joined in, patting his forehead with his handkerchief every so often. She unexpectedly heard Madame Giry's voice, and a knot tied in the pit of her stomach.
"Christine Daae could sing it."
That sentence rang throughout her mind. She knew it would be the death of her.